Au Contraire
by RaichuTec
Summary: Genma deals with the aftermath of Hayate's death, and ends up on a mission with Ibiki, one that leads to some startling revelations. (Shonen-ai warning.)
1. Feather Moon

Disclaimer: I do not own the Naruto characters. Just borrowing them for a bit and I shall put them back when I'm done, promise.  
  
Au Contraire  
by  
Raichutec  
  
"You look like you just lost your best friend," Aoba commented idly, not looking up from the stack of papers in front of him.

Genma could have scowled at him, but it took too much effort. Since Hayate's death, he hadn't the energy for much of anything other than keeping himself on his feet and moving forward in a vacuum. He reacted, he spoke, he ate and he slept, but it was all one great big blur for him and his body had long ago shifted into autopilot, letting his mind go numb. Everyone noticed it, but no one said much about it, not even Ebisu who dealt with the loss in his own way. It was the way of the shinobi. You focused on protecting Konoha, accepted death when she knocked on your door, and moved forward without looking in reverse.  
  
It took Aoba to finally start digging. "Hey, Genma-san, did you hear me? Do you ever reply to anyone anymore, man? I said you look like you just lost your best fri-- ow!"  
  
"Knock it off, Aoba," Raidou snapped, having thwacked the other jounin over the head with a pile of rolled up papers. "We have work to do, remember?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Aoba replied in a sulky tone, adjusting the head protector knocked slightly off-kilter before diving back into the papers again. "I was just saying, this whole don't talk about it stuff is getting irritating. I mean, Genma over there's a regular zombie these days and you guys just let him do it to himself."  
  
Raidou looked like he was about to whack Aoba again, but then he unrolled the stack and flopped down on the floor again. There were papers everywhere, some stacked nearly as high as the ceiling. When the records warehouse had been hit during the Sand attack on Konoha, they'd lost so much vital information. Some of it had been salvaged, but now it was a complete mess, pages everywhere. Much of it sensitive information, things no genin or even chuunin needed to know. Some of it was even forbidden to the eyes of the jounin, except that Tsunade had no time to be pouring over what remained to make sure they didn't see something they shouldn't.  
  
She just smiled at the trio she selected to organize everything and told them she'd kill them slowly if they ever revealed something they shouldn't.  
  
The three were chosen because at the moment, they could not be sent away on missions. Confronting some of Sound's greater warriors had left Genma and Raidou very near death, though both had managed to live despite the odds against them. Aoba, on the other hand, was a victim of circumstance. He just happened to be walking down the hallway outside Tsunade's office and she dragged him in.  
  
He was the only one who spoke. Sometimes it was just idle chatter to fill the silence. Other times he boldly asked questions neither of his fellow jounin were willing to answer. And he seemed to like prodding Genma, to see if he could get a reaction out of him. "They always say you never really react to anything, you know. I mean, I heard Anko-san say she could prick you with pins and you wouldn't even flinch."  
  
"Anko talks too much," Raidou said with a derisive snort. "Aoba, would you stop prodding Genma for once and find something else to concentrate on?"  
  
Genma nearly smiled, though, remembering the time Anko really had pricked him with pins and he'd just stared at her before rather blandly saying, "Ouch."

* * *

He liked it when it rained. When the skies were overcast and the world shrouded in a gray, misty miasma. The streets shone like metal, revealing distorted versions of the world nearby until broken abjectly by a foot treading through murky puddles, or raindrops disturbing the stillness.  
  
It made the trip back to his apartment far more pleasant, that feeling of stepping between worlds as rolls of fog billowed past. As if he could just move a little to the right and he'd find himself in another time, perhaps a time before Hayate had died. But no matter how many times he deliberately staggered his path, back and forth, he always ended up back at the old shop front and the rickety staircase that wound around to the back, where his apartment was located.  
  
He hopped the stairs two at a time and swung the door open wide to the clutter he called his. Nothing had been moved since the night before Hayate's untimely demise. His shirt still draped over the back of a chair where he'd left it, telling Genma not to disturb it, it needed to dry. One of his precious katanas still rested against the windowsill. Genma supposed he should find Hayate's sister, give her the things left behind. But they lingered on like ghosts in the corners and he couldn't bring himself to disturb anything, even for her benefit.  
  
Footfalls echoed outside. Genma lifted his head, arching a brow to himself in uncertainty. The tread wasn't the familiar, light sound Hayate once made, a sound he'd never hear again, but it wasn't the purposeful step of Raidou or even the sprightly scampering of Anko. Heavy and steady, whoever approached Genma's apartment wasn't someone who came calling often, if at all. He had the door opened before the mysterious visitor appeared, dressed in dark clothing unlike any uniform worn normally by Konoha's jounin.  
  
"Ibiki-san, this is a surprise," he greeted without enthusiasm. "To what do I owe this rare visit?"  
  
"No real reason. Do I need one?" Ibiki answered. His voice was more a deadpan than Genma's could ever hope to be. Nothing seemed to ruffle him, not even the slight breeze that tugged on Genma's hair.  
  
"No, I guess you don't," he finally said, "Come on in, then."  
  
Ibiki had the ability to dominate nearly anything, yet once inside, he relaxed in a way only a handful of people ever really saw. Anko more than anyone else, though the other tokubetsu had the honor of witnessing Ibiki letting himself cut loose a little sometimes. He walked right in, not bothering to remove the heavy overcoat before he glanced around briefly. Genma noted how those dark eyes landed first on Hayate's sword, and then on just about anything else in the room that obviously couldn't be Genma's, plus a few that weren't so obvious. "I brought the alcohol. Would you like one now or shall I just shove them into the refrigerator."  
  
Only then did Genma even notice the bottles Ibiki held in one hand. "Are they cold?"  
  
"Relatively, it wasn't a long jaunt to get here."  
  
"Then toss one over," Genma felt himself actually grinning. He wondered who sent Ibiki over, or if the man had actually come of his own accord. Ibiki pulled one bottle out and deliberately held it out rather than throw it, making Genma close the gap between them enough to actually take it. "Is this why you dropped by? Just to gift me with beer?"  
  
"No. But I figured it would break the ice." By then, Ibiki was already in the tiny kitchenette connected to the front room, opening the fridge to find room for the remaining bottles. "Do you ever clean this out?"  
  
"Only if the tuna is spawning in the mystery soup."  
  
"Mmm. That must be interesting to see." Ibiki returned with a bottle in his hand, twisting the cap off. "Sit down. You look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in ages."  
  
Genma didn't feel like arguing with him about it, flopping on the edge of his futon with the bottle still unopened. He stared at it for a moment, wiping away some of the condensation with his thumb. "Have any of us, really? How come you aren't on a mission right now, Ibiki-san?"  
  
"I just got back from one. To find that two of my ANBU favorites were in the hospital recently with critical wounds. And to my dismay, there were no real reports on it. Too busy was the excuse I got from those I asked. So I came to talk to you since I can't find Raidou." He had finally removed the overcoat, draping it across one of the chairs as he emptied it and dragged it over toward the futon. "Open that and drink it, those are expensive."  
  
"Is this some kind of new interrogation technique?" Genma asked, finally twisting the cap off and taking a swig, as ordered.  
  
"No," Ibiki replied, a hint of a smile starting on his scarred face, "But it loosens up friends rather quickly." 


	2. Scarlet Sky

_Feather moon  
Scarlet sky  
Living clouds  
My blinded eye  
Waters black  
Wood in snow  
Dead of night  
How bright you glow  
  
_Chapter 2  
  
"I wasn't sleeping with him," Genma protested half-heartedly.  
  
"Oh?" Ibiki replied with implied disbelief in his tone.  
  
"Ok. I was sleeping with him, next to him, but we weren't having sex. He was my teammate, we used to sleep next to each other all the time when we were genin. That doesn't end just because you pass the chuunin exams. Does that explain it better?"  
  
"Much." Ibiki nodded once, satisfied.  
  
They had already finished Ibiki's beer and were into the second bottle of strong whiskey stolen off the top of Genma's refrigerator. It'd been awhile since he let himself drink that much and somehow in the alcohol induce fog, he'd ended up leaning against Ibiki on the futon, head tilted back against the taller jounin's shoulder. He felt loose, limbs rubbery and thoughts rambling. Somehow Hayate had come up in the conversation and he'd just opened his mouth and let loose whatever was on his mind.  
  
"You were close," Ibiki espoused, "How did he come to be on your team? He was a bit younger than you and Ebisu."  
  
Genma nodded. "Yeah, after Raidou passed the chuunin exams, we were saddled with him. He was just a kid, graduated way earlier than most. Genius or something. Ebisu and I gave him hell."  
  
"I remember something about you two stringing him up by the Hokage monument."  
  
Genma couldn't help but laugh. "That's just the tip of the iceberg. But he endured all of it graciously. Polite to us even when telling us to go to hell and fry there."  
  
Ibiki ruffled Genma's hair, then. It felt odd to have those fingers against his scalp, knowing who they were attached to. He chalked it up to the alcohol. While Ibiki had drunk considerably less so far, it was still enough to lower anyone's inhibitions.  
  
"So tell me," he continued, fingers still left lightly against Genma's head, "When did it all change? You two had to have accepted him at some point."  
  
Genma finished off the glass in his hand before answering. "It was on a mission that went awry. It was supposed to be a C rank mission, simply escorting these two girls to another village. Turns out one of them was running away from an abusive boyfriend or something. And he just happened to be a pretty decent ninja from Rain. We took quite a beating, even our sensei had a time of it. Hayate jumped in front of Ebisu and deflected what would have been a killing blow with his katana."  
  
"Ah, that explains it. So Hayate saved Ebisu's life."  
  
"Something like that. He got hurt, bad, for it, too. That night, he fell asleep with his head in my lap. So I sat there, real still, so I wouldn't disturb him. I guess seeing him that way made something in me change."  
  
"And the rest is history?"  
  
Genma nodded. The hand still on his head moved, fingers brushing aside strands of unruly hair. "I know Hayate meant a lot to you, Genma. But you have to let him go, just as the rest of us do."  
  
"I know," Genma sighed. "Who sent you?"  
  
Ibiki chuckled at him. "No one sent me. Tsunade intends to release you from medical leave soon, and when she does, she's sending you off with me. I need you to be emotionally sound for the mission we're undertaking."  
  
Genma lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head back to look up at Ibiki's scarred face. "You are way too good at this kind of thing, you know that?"

* * *

As a child, Genma remembered standing in front of the memorial, arms at his sides and head bowed appropriately. He was only five at the time, and had no understanding of the names written in bronze kanji or why they were so mourned and celebrated. He had gone there with his father, though Shiranui Matsuharu hadn't been a shinobi for over a decade by then. Having made it to chuunin, an unfortunate accident crippled one of his legs and ended his career as a ninja just like that.  
  
But he had friends who went on to become jounin. And one by one most of them died for the honor of Konoha. Genma was used to seeing his father a drunken mess around the house, always quick with a surly word or a slap up the side of the head. But that day, under a noonday sun, he saw his father weep for the first time, fingers against the cool letters of the monument. The last member of his old genin team had been killed recently. The blow left him a broken man, after that. He would drink what remained of his life away and leave behind a grieving widow and eleven children. Genma was ten at the time, and well into his studies at the Academy.  
  
Genma never cared much for his father. But he never forgot that day, and the lesson it taught. For years he had been fortunate, Hayate and Ebisu lived, returning from missions with their lives intact. Finally he realized how his father must have felt that day, now that he stood in that same place, feeling the newly carved kanji representing Hayate's name.  
  
Only he didn't shed any tears. He'd watched his father weep, just that once, and then fall prey to his own despair. Genma wouldn't walk in those shoes.  
  
"Sad, sad, my how sad."  
  
Genma hadn't heard anyone coming and the voice startled him. He leapt to his feet again, spinning around with an inward, mental snap. Here he was tokubetsu jounin and people were sneaking up on him?  
  
He relaxed slowly as the little man stared back at him with half-lidded eyes and a warm smile. Wrinkled and wizened, the man was obviously elderly, stooped over slightly with a cane held in one hand unsteadily. "Oh, forgive me. Did I startle you, young man? I didn't mean to. But you look so sad at that monument. Why is that?"  
  
"It's nothing," he replied. "I didn't hear you coming."  
  
The man tilted his head slightly, squinting at Genma as if unable to focus on him properly. "Ah. Did you come here to pay homage to your lost friends? That's why I'm here. I heard that dear Gekkou Hayate child had passed on. My heart nearly stopped beating at the news."  
  
"You knew Hayate?" Genma felt his suspicions prickle, studying the old man carefully. Hayate had never mentioned such a person, though to be fair, Hayate was also very private and there were a lot of things he withheld from others.  
  
"I did indeed. He was a lovely young lad. Used to help me with my garden in spring, and shovel my walk in winter. Is he who you're here to honor? He surely had very good friends, such a kind young man."  
  
It sounded like something Hayate would do. "Yeah. Hayate was one of a kind." Despite himself, Genma felt his wariness melt away into a nostalgic smile.  
  
The old man reached with an unsteady hand toward the pocket of his shirt, pulling out something on a long, black cord. "He had left this accidently with me one day. I suppose if you were his friend, it really ought to go to you."  
  
Genma held his hand out, feeling the cool of something metal settle into his palm, a pendant in the shape of a five pointed star. He had never seen Hayate wear anything like it that he could recall. "Are you certain? I don't remember seeing him with a pendant like this."  
  
The old man paused, bushy white brows knit for a moment in contemplation. "To be honest, I can't recall if it was his or not anymore. Ah, my mind is slipping. Either way, keep it. Just in case. Now, if you will excuse me."  
  
He shuffled off after that, leaving Genma standing at the monument alone, again, holding onto the star shaped pendant. He closed his palm over it, then shoved it into his pocket. It wasn't Hayate's, he was fairly sure of it. But, perhaps someone else would appreciate it. Anko, maybe. Or Kurenai.

* * *

When Ebisu approached, Genma heard him. The soft crunch of sandals on dead leaves preceded the jounin teacher, stopping to stand beside his former teammate and stare at the monument for a long moment before saying anything.  
  
"You're going to end up just like him if you keep this up." He meant Hayate, who came to the monument several times a week and meditated in front of it sometimes for hours.  
  
"Not hardly. I haven't been here that long," Genma snorted in reply. He reached over and gave Ebisu an obligatory shove, not managing to knock the other off balance in the slightest. "Don't you have a kid to be chasing around?"  
  
Ebisu grinned despite their somber surroundings, "Konohamaru is busy causing trouble for someone else right now. Even I have to get a break from him sometimes." His smile faded, then. "So. I hear you're off medical leave now."  
  
"Yeah," Genma replied.  
  
"And, I hear you're going on a mission with Ibiki-san."  
  
"You heard right."  
  
"No Raidou?"  
  
"He's not off leave, yet. Tsunade-sama said another week at least. His injuries were a lot worse than mine were."  
  
Ebisu frowned. "You were spitting up blood and had a collapsed lung, Genma, I hardly call that better or worse. You just heal faster, you always have. So... just..."  
  
Silence stretched out between them like the shadows they cast over the ground, snaking halfway up the monument. Inwardly, Genma knew what Ebisu was trying to say. Go do your best, but don't you dare get dead. One teammate gone was more than enough.  
  
"Well, guess I'll see you when you get back." Ebisu shrugged his shoulders. He nudged Genma's arm with his knuckles, no real pressure behind them. Turning to leave, he paused just long enough to call back at Genma.  
  
"And see if you can get Ibiki to lighten up a bit."  
  
Feather Moon lyrics by Vienna Teng.  



	3. Living Clouds

"Gah, Raidou, will you knock it off!" 

Raidou was like a cat, constantly underfoot and practically tripping Genma. Since learning he was leaving soon for another mission, Raidou's mother hen tendencies surfaced, trying hard not to fret and failing miserably. He'd been at Genma's apartment all night, though Genma found a good way to quiet him for a little while so they could both sleep eventually. But as morning dawned, he was at it again, up and trying to fix breakfast and rouse Genma with that damn cheerful voice of his.

That morning, however, Genma really didn't want to get up. Not just his usual attempt at denying it was morning, not when he felt chilled badly enough to shiver and the back of his throat felt scratchy, and then sore. Raidou got him up anyway, not paying any attention to Genma's muttering and general grumpiness. He suffered through a glass of orange juice, ate half the breakfast in front of him and finally couldn't take anymore of it, snapping at Raidou thoughtlessly.

The older jounin stared at him for a moment, just a hint of hurt on his features and then he masked again, getting up to take their plates to the sink.

Genma sighed, rubbing at one of his temples as if he could will away the headache he felt pounding there. "Raidou, I'm so--"

"It's ok," Raidou interrupted, "I know, I'm being a pain again. I suppose it's because I don't want you to leave, so I annoy the hell out of you in hopes you'll say something dumb to me again and end up sticking around out of some bizarre sense of guilt."

Genma had no idea what to say to that, explained so plainly. It did seem to sum up the relationship he'd had with Raidou from the time they were old enough to discover sexuality together.

"I'm coming back, you know. It's not like the mission is going to last forever."

"I know that," Raidou looked over at him, but the smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes.

Despite his the protest of his aching body, Genma got up from the table anyway, slipping his arms around Raidou's waist and resting his head against the back of the older jounin's shoulder. "I'll come back to you, promise. Have I ever not?"

Raidou's answer came with a sigh, "You never come back to me, Genma, but yes, you've always returned."

* * *

Genma tied the head protector on, backwards as he always wore it. It felt odd to be back in the jounin uniform, like slipping into a well worn glove he'd put aside for the summer and re-examined as winter rolled around again. Raidou apologized for his passive-aggressiveness. Genma kissed him in his own way of apology. Sorry he couldn't love the older jounin with any sort of commitment. Sorry he couldn't promise to return, not really. It was dangerous to tempt fate that way.

He locked up the apartment, leaving a key tucked in a hollow space near the door in case Raidou needed or forgot something inside. Halfway down the rickety staircase, he felt the overwhelming urge to cough, grabbing onto the railing and leaning over it with the force of it. Combined with everything else, Genma knew he was coming down with something. He dared not tell anyone of it, though, poor timing to get sick just before a mission, especially one with Ibiki.

"That doesn't sound good, Genma-san."

Genma winced, recognizing Ibiki's voice. The torture and interrogation specialist stood at the bottom of the staircase, arms folded over over his torso and a grim expression on his face. One hand rose slightly from where it rested against his arm, gesturing for the other tokubetsu to come closer. He expected a hand against his forehead, but Ibiki just looked him over briefly, eyes hard as stone and just as unrevealing. "If it's just a cold, you can suffer through it, I'm sure. If you sneeze and give us away, however, I'll have to kill you."

Genma exhaled in relief, a brief chuckle emitted at Ibiki's assessment. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

They gathered their packs with any supplies needed for the trip. Ibiki was as quiet as always, making plans inwardly without informing Genma of them. Surprisingly, Aoba waited for them at the edge of the village, though Genma had no idea he was to tag along with them. A brow lifted at Ibiki and there was no response other than a very slight smile.

It meant a lot of noise along the way. Aoba chattered on about the most meaningless stuff. Ibiki grunted occasionally as if he were actually listening, but Genma knew his mind was elsewhere. The mission ahead of them, the details he would give to his fellow jounin and the details he would keep to himself. So Genma made it his duty to distract Aoba, talking to him occasionally or asking questions to get him off into another tangent. Throughout the day, he felt significantly better. Ibiki set the pace and they all kept up with it, leaving Fire Country for parts unknown.

"So, you gonna tell us what we're up to, Ibiki-san?" Aoba eventually asked. Genma figured he'd distracted him long enough and didn't bother trying again.

"We're heading for Tea Country. There's been a series of murders there, off and on, and another body was found a week ago. They requested the help of Konoha shinobi to investigate and put an end to it."

And that set Aoba off immediately, catching up to walk alongside Ibiki and bombard him with questions. "A murder? Really? How often does this happen? How come you picked me and Genma for this? We're not really investigative types."

Ibiki paused long enough to reply, "Because lately Tsunade can't be picky and choosy on who she sends where, and neither can I."

Aoba fell quiet for a few minutes after that, processing Ibiki's answer. "I think we've been insulted, Genma," he finally said with a touch of a frown.

Genma just chuckled at him, "So we have, Aoba. So we have."

They arrived in Tea Country by nightfall, stopping at the inn long enough to secure a room and drop their packs. Ibiki handed separate files to Genma and Aoba with instructions. "Read through these. It'll give you all the details you need to know about the background. I'm going to meet with Tea Country's current leader to let him know we've arrived. Likely our investigation will begin in the morning."

Genma opened the file as soon as it was given to him, glancing over the notes and photos there without really reading it yet. Ibiki wasn't done with them, either. "Both of you, stay here until I return. No wandering off." Genma could have sworn the torture and interrogation specialist was looking right at him as he said that.

"What, don't trust us?" he said with a grin, and then couldn't help the sudden coughing fit that had him nearly doubled over with the force of it.

"You know, Genma-kun, you're starting to sound like Hayate now," Aoba observed idly. "Wow, you even have those dark smudges under your eyes!"

Ibiki sighed and scrubbed his face with a hand. "Aoba, just read the file. Genma, you wander off anywhere and I'll personally tie your hands to the headboard."

Breathless, grateful just to have finally stopped coughing for a moment, Genma managed to choke out, "Sounds kinky," before Ibiki had cleared the door and closed it.

* * *

It began several decades ago. The first murder was discovered by a woman scouring the woods for certain herbs. After that, there had been five others documented. They all died the same kind of death, found in the same position with the same alien markings on them. None of them appeared to be related whatsoever, except that all but one of them had been shinobi from other villages. One from Rain, one from Cloud, two from Mist and one villager from Stone.

Each murder occurred between five and ten years apart. No one had any idea who was committing them, but all Hidden Villages contacted claimed innocence. Murdered shinobi had all been originally pronounced dead by various means. Everything from death during combat to simply having passed away after a lingering illness. There was no explanation how they managed to be murdered when they were already supposed to be dead. Only the first victim, the villager from Stone, had been declared missing and she was found five years later in the forests of Tea country, near the shoreline.

Genma spread the pictures out over the bed to study their details further. Aoba looked at them for a moment, but refused to sit on the edge of the bed, or be anywhere near his fellow jounin. While this didn't particularly bother Genma, who rather liked having his space, it did raise his curiosity, eventually asking what the hell Aoba's problem was.

"I think you caught whatever Hayate had. So I don't want to get it from you," Aoba answered stiffly.

"Hayate died several months ago, Aoba-san. I doubt I could catch anything from him now."

But that didn't deter Aoba. Genma worried about it quietly, knowing enough about incubation periods to realize he very well could have inherited Hayate's sickness of mysterious origin. He seemed to have come down with it just as abruptly, fine one day and coughing up his lungs the next and unable to sleep so much there were permanent bags under his eyes. Genma had worried for him, biting his lip to keep from playing mother hen the way Raidou kept trying to do.

When Hayate was finally forced to quit ANBU, it was apparent that he really did have a problem. Yet none of the medical nin who studied his condition had any way to explain it. He had no infection they could treat. No cancer to be operated on. Nothing apparently wrong with him. Yet he coughed constantly, sounding as if he might very well hack up his lungs at any given moment and had strange and sudden fevers that came and went without reason.

That wasn't what killed him, in the end, Hayate had been murdered. Genma thought it fitting, that he would die serving Konoha rather than from sickness. He only wished they had found his murderer, or had even an inkling of an identity.

He would have sworn revenge, but it seemed so futile to do so when all attempts at investigation lead no where.

Ibiki returned a few hours later, bringing with him cups of hot tea and bento boxes. He even brought back a bag of cough drops for Genma, quietly holding it behind his back while fielding yet more questions from Aoba. Genma squeezed his hand once as he took it in way of thank you. Both for the cough drops and for the discrete method of handing them over. He really didn't want to get Aoba started on his illness again.

Aoba refused to be anywhere near Genma that night. There were only two beds in the room to begin with. While Ibiki started off sleeping next to Aoba, eventually Genma woke to the sensation of the mattress compressing. Ibiki leaned over him, murmuring, "Save me, please," in the most quiet deadpan Genma had ever heard from him. With a quiet chuckle, he rolled over and made room for the interrogation specialist, who could survive being tortured in the most terrifying, cruel and horrific manners known to shinobi and survive it, but was unable to sleep next to Aoba's constant snore and incoherent mutterings.

* * *

Shadows they were, unseen in the darkness of a moonless night. They broke the streetlamp with a thought and rested together on the rooftop, eyes on the only window granting egress into the little inn room on the second floor.

"There is movement inside. They are restless," the first said.

"Of course they are," the second replied. "Is it time yet? I grow tired of observing. I want the flesh we've been promised."

"Not yet. The specimen isn't ready for harvesting yet."

"Well when will he be ready? Why does Master need another specimen? He has a new one to play with." The second pouted, lower lip jutting outward.

The first sensed a temper tantrum forming. "Tomorrow, maybe. Master will be upset if he isn't ripe yet. If we move too soon he'll punish us."

The second cringed, a memory triggered at the mention of punishment. A pink tongue darted over his lips, hungry. The first knew he wouldn't be able to hold his twin back for long. "Come. There is other prey here. We will hunt and feast and wait to take the specimen."


End file.
